comfortable silence
by Promestein
Summary: Comfortable silences like these are all they really need.


Sagume's bed feels almost too stiff, but she's able to settle into it all the same. She lies on her back, hands folded over her stomach, wing fanned out – and stares at the ceiling. She sees the stars shine in the corners of her eyes, out the window, in between the lights of Lunar skyscrapers.

She leaves the blinds open. She sleeps better with the sky visible. Still, even then, it takes time for all the stress to melt out of her body, for her to truly relax and sink into her blankets. Sagume dips in and out of sleep for a few minutes – stirring, shifting, turning onto her side – before it comes to her all at once, and the world around her disappears into darkness.

She wakes up in a familiar bed – not her own, but familiar all the same. "Sagume!" A voice pipes up beside her, and arms wrap around her shoulders in a hug. "I'm glad you could make it so early today." Doremy pulls away, a smile on her face, tail waving around behind her. She had taken her hat off, at some point – Sagume's gaze wanders and she sees it lying on the nighttable, but she's quickly drawn back to Doremy.

"Work was not as busy, today," Sagume says, quietly, as Doremy settles in beside her and pushes her onto her back. Doremy's bed is much nicer than hers – it's unnecessarily huge, maybe, but it was soft, and comfortable, with vivid colors and fluffy pillows and warm blankets. "So I was able to leave earlier."

"Excellent!" Doremy claps her hands together. "Now we have more time to spend, together." She reaches forward, pressing her palms against Sagume's cheek and pulling her closer, into another hug. "Hopefully nothing comes up to wake you up, again."

"... Yes, it would be quite fortunate if something was to come and wake me up," Sagume says, choosing her words carefully. Her voice is muffled by the fabric of Doremy's gown. She doesn't want her time with Doremy to be interrupted. Doremy lets her pull away, and Sagume makes herself comfortable, lying back onto the soft pillows.

There's almost too many pillows. Sagume would say as much, but who knows what that'd lead to. Besides, Doremy woud look at her like she had said something horrible, unforgivable, and Sagume can't quite blame her. Besides, Sagume vastly prefers the look she's giving her now – a warm, content look that makes her want to doze off in her arms.

Doremy shifts and, suddenly, there's a warm cup of tea in Sagume's hands. She must have whisked it away from some dream, somewhere. Sagume didn't particularly mind. Doremy settles in beside her, and Sagume shifts and leans against her. She feels softer than the pillows.

Minutes pass in comfortable silence. Doremy sips from her tea slowly and nuzzles against Sagume, tail flicking from side to side and brushing against her bare legs. By the time Doremy's done her tea, Sagume's barely made it halfway through her cup. She doesn't have the time to finish, before Doremy is pulling her from her bed and outside, onto the balcony.

In the Dream World, few things have any concrete substance, save for whatever things Doremy and other baku decide to hold together. Doremy's house – mansion? – is consistent and stable in structure, at least. Still, Sagume's gotten lost in it before – although she suspects this is because of Doremy.

These thoughts come to a sudden halt when she looks up at the rest of the Dream World. Every time she looks – even after the whole incident with Junko and the Hell goddess and _ugh_ – she's caught off guard by how otherworldly and amazing it all looks. Vibrant colors stretch into the distance, much brighter and more striking than anything she'd ever see in the Lunar Capital's sky.

There's the distant lights of stars and planets, those that don't really have any analogue in the physical world. Doremy leans against her and squeezes her hand in hers. They watch the sky, for a few minutes. Sagume doesn't say anything, but Doremy talks – about how things had been, about interesting dreams she had seen drift past, and other comings and goings.

Sagume listens, and nods, and mumbles the occasional "I hope something that interesting doesn't happen again," or something to the same effect. Doremy rolls her eyes and puffs out her cheeks and sticks out her tongue, but she's smiling all the same, and that's what matters.

Eventually, their small conversation leads them back into Doremy's oversized bed. Sagume takes the opportunity to finish her tea, settled nicely against Doremy's chest and listening to her heart beating. It's comforting, homely, perfect. Part of Sagume wishes she could just keep on sleeping, but... she has responsibilities, and people who rely on her fulfilling them. She needs to do her duty.

Still. If this moment just stretched until the end of time, she'd be content with that. She feels Doremy toying with her hair and smoothing out the feathers of her wing. She takes a deep breath, and says, "Doremy."

"Yes, Sagume?"

"I love you." She's glad she can say things like this, at least. It really would be unfortunate if every word's meaning was switched. "Until the beginning." Of course, it was awkward trying to work around saying other things. This was the closest she could get to saying 'until the end' without her powers negating that.

She squeezes Doremy's hand.

Doremy makes a sighing noise, but Sagume can easily tell from the sound of her voice and the intake of her breath that she's giddy. "I love you too. Till the end of my days, Sagume." She shifts and presses a kiss to Sagume's cheek, from behind, and nuzzles into her neck. "You're too perfect."

Sagume turns – with some difficulty, given Doremy's hold on her – and returns the hug, wrapping her one wing around Doremy. She says nothing – she's never really been good with words, and there's not much to say, anyways. Comfortable silences like these are all they really need.


End file.
